Captured
by AnimeKeepsMeSane
Summary: When Fiyero and Elphaba's bitter daughter oversteps the boundaries they've set for her, they must return to Oz to set her free. But will she learn to accept that her parents do not regret their decision in time to free herself? And will they be able to save Oz from the new corrupt power that rules it?


**Captured**

A small figure slipped through the garish crowds of the Emerald City. A black cloak with a deep hood and more material than it knew what to do with trailed the ground and hid the figure's features. Sliding along the walls and around the kiosks, the dark figure stayed well out of noticing range and made its careful way towards large double doors that lead to the heart of the great city. Whispered words, no louder than a breath, buzzed around the figure's head and lashed out whenever someone had even the smallest passing thought about the dark form. A moment's awareness turned to wondering why there was not more celebrating. The moving sunspot ducked under the Horse of a Different Color and the great animal whinnied a greeting. Words caressed the horse, rubbing behind its ears to soothe it even as the driver flicked his whip. A laugh, soundless as a jingling bell among the harness, joins the words in the air and a pace quickens. Many stories about the great city at the heart of Oz have been heard and the infiltrator expected a harder job but on this day, a much anticipated festival day, no one notices one more slip amongst the crowds, no one recognizes the one clad in darkness even as they head towards the sacred doors at the heart of the city. Now for the hard part.

Heavy cloth parts and small hands ensconced in leather gloves caress the shiny metal of the door. The hands press harder, feeling deep into the metal, feeding off the lingering energy from the inside. Eyes close and the sensation of falling, quick and painless like when you fall asleep and dream of falling, before the sudden jolt and eyes open again. This hall is darker, much darker and a green light pulses from the end. The figure moves quickly, much quicker than before, and does not care how loud the approach has become. They will know soon enough.

"Who goes there?" A voice cries as the small figure appears from the darkness beneath the arch. "Be you friend or fiend, hero or foe from the olden days?" A man sits upon a throne where once a hologram floated. His hair is long and such a light color of blond that it appears almost white. He is hardly older than twenty, but the green light throwing his face into such unflattering relief shows the meanness that has carved deep lines into his hard face. He is clothed elegantly in a suit of deepest green velvet and robes of purple silk.

The figure smiles and looks towards him. "Once, long ago," the figure begins, fulfilling the age old tradition of monologue and banter, "you called my family both friend and foe. Though in foe they fled, so by that, I suppose, I should be known!" The figure straightened and threw down the hood and back the cloak. The man gasped as curls dark as night cascaded around pale green shoulders and eyes sharper than ice pierced him on his throne.

"You—!" He gasps, but said no more for a woman, an old women in a glittering pink dress fit better for a much younger woman, entered through a side door.

"Your Grace, they are ready for—" The woman began before noticing the girl, for indeed it was a girl no older than sixteen, as well and shrieked. "Elphie?!"

The girl threw back her head and laughed long and clear. "Glinda? Glinda the Good? Glinda the Bold? Galinda Upland? Is that really you? For I am not Elphaba Thropp! But I can see how you would think that. My father has always said I look very much like my mother." The green glow of the room had indeed turned the girl a much darker shade of green than the light mint of her skin.

"Your father? Your mother?" Glinda asked, a hollowed croak that echoed about the cavernous hall.

The girl smiled brilliantly, though there was a sharp coldness to the twist in her mouth. "Yes, my parents. Elphaba and Fiyero, your old friends. The friends you sold out." She spits the last words, abandoning the taunting laughter in her voice for one of cold fury. Anger boils deep and raw within the girl. Anger not for harm done to her, but harm done to those she loves most dearly, he beloved father and mother. "Your friends that fled their dearest Oz in terror and desperate need. And all the while you fed off the stories told about my mother, the woman you once loathed and then called your dearest friend. I'm glad you look upon my face and see the friend you betrayed and the boy whom you coveted and nearly had. My parents may not hate you, Lady Good Witch of the North, but I do!" She declares it loud and her pain echoes around the room. "Look upon me, for I am Rena Tigelaar! And I have my mother's power." She lets the words flow now, revealing themselves as they stream from her, reaching to the farthest corners of the hall.

Some wriggle through the cracks beneath doors and windows, centennials to make sure none enter the room until Rena's work is done. Others reach for Glinda, and she does not fight back. Cold righteousness spikes in Rena's eyes, glee at the apparent fact that Glinda knows this is what she deserves. Still more surround the man on the throne, the only begotten son of the Wizard of Oz and an Ozian woman before the human left to return to earth. He is the new Wizard know. A high chanting begins, not from Rena's mouth, but in her voice. The ancient words spin and chime like bells, singing out their power, the power Rena has controlled since she was small. The shimmering words around the Wizard form a cage while Glinda is merely bound hand and foot. Rena thinks that yes! Yes she has won! But then the Wizard of Oz throws his head back and laughs.


End file.
